A Meeting with FoxFace
by NyanCat13
Summary: What if Katniss met FoxFace in the woods shortly after Rue's death, and then nearly made an allience with her? Rated T for talk of killing.


**A Meeting with FoxFace **

**Katniss meets FoxFace out in the woods and may just be able to get some helpful advice from her. Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, All rights go to Suzanne Collins, author of The Hunger Games Trilogy. Please enjoy and review! :) **

It is mid-afternoon. The sun is high up in the sky, and I'm almost certain that means I'm nearer to food. This is when the wild animals come out for their daily feeding. I can feel my hands dripping with sweat. The GameMakers are giving us all hell at the momement. They seem to be having fun giving us new and unforgiving weather to battle through everyday. In the trees I can see a birds nest, and I'm having some mixed thoughts about whether I should shoot it down, or climb up the mighty oak, to see if there's ant eggs left to steal. Unless it's belongs to a mocking-jay. Ever since Rue's death, I have become quite fond of the little creatures, and avoid killing them whenever I can. Instead, I spot a groosling, just wondering around, minding it's own buisnuss. I've already had one today, but what the heck, I think to myself, food is food.

I draw my silver bow and arrow, which I stole from Glimmer the Distict 1 girl after she was stung to death by the Tracker-Jackers. I get ready to release, when I hear something in the bushes behind me, and turn my weapon to there instead. I am worried in case it's Cato or even Peeta come back for revenge. I grit my teeth, and snarl. `Who's there? Show yourself or I'll shoot!"

A streak of red emerges from the trees, and for a second, I fear it's some sort of animal, but then a body starts to emerge from the shrubbery. And then an unfazed, perfectly calm freckled face peers out me.

It's FoxFace.

I give her a look of disapproval, but she does not seem to care. Instead, she steps straight into my territory, where I have built my camp. Then she does something funny with her feet, scampering like a rabbit across the ground-I don't belive it! She's stepped over my snare! I try not to look to angry nor befuddled at her state of mind. How did she know it was there?! I buried the damn thing underground! I keep the bow and arrow in my hand, but still she does not react when I threaten to fire one. Instead she speaks, in a low, gentle voice, that almost makes me jump.

"It's Okay!" she says, "I'm a friend!"

It's the first time I've ever heard her speak before, and I must say, it's not what I've been expecting. I thought she was going to have some sort of sly, smug tone, like that of her name. Instead she has quite a soothing voice, and it sounds western. It is not intended to be malicious, I don't think, but even so, she could be a deadly enemy.

"I mean you no harm," she says, as if I'm a wild animal she's trying to tame. I lower my bow and arrow, but still keep my scowl on. She walks right up to me then, and tells me to drop my weapon. I could kill her right then, I think, she was so close I could just shoot her in the neck, or the chest, like a did the District 1 boy. So what makes me just stand there, and stare into her face. "Drop it," she orders, and evetually I do.

"You're, you're not going kill me?" I ask, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

"No."

"Oh."

We stare at each other in an awkward silence for a momement. FoxFace does this thing where she looks at me, then shakes her head, and stares at the ground instead.

"That was a very kind thing you did for that Rue girl," she says at last. I give a short smile and nod, but they are sad gestures, not happy ones.

"Where you covered her body in flowers, and blew up the Carreers supplies."

"Yeah, well. It was an act of rebellion," I say, "Peeta gave me the idea. He was always going on about how he wanted to do something to show the Capitol that they don't own him."

"And that was the perfect way to show it," FoxFace smiles, "I'm sure Rue is smiling down from heaven right now, singing with all the mocking-jays that have passed away before her." Her words make me want to cry. All I can imagine is Rue in a pair of white angel wings, flying through the skies with a thousand mocking-jays and other birds, singing right at the top of her lungs, with no trace of a spear peircing her body. I have a knot in my throat, and no tears come out, but FoxFace seems to see right through me. I can see the pity in her eyes and face.

"It was also brave how you volunteered for your little sister at the Reaping like that," she continues, "I still can't really get over it. What was her name again? Prim?"

"Yes, that's right," I say , surprised at her rememberence.

"So young", says FoxFace, with a sigh, "it just goes to show you, they show no mercy in these brutal, barbaric games."

She's so nice about it, she's the lovliest tribute I've met since Rue. Or is this her game? Surely it can't be genuine kindness, she's way too clever for that.

"You're trying to trick me aren't you?!" I snarl.

"I can assure you, that's not the case," says FoxFace, "I am trying to help you."

"Oh, yeah?" I mock-chuckle "With what?"

"Getting out of here," says FoxFace, "there's some food nearby, I'm sure of it."

"Thanks," I say, "but I already have food."

FoxFace follows my gaze to the groosling that has been standing there watching us.

"Show me how you kill," FoxFace, says, startling me, "I haven't had a chance to see you." Slowly, I draw my silver bow and arrow, and shoot the groosling straight through it's neck. I then proceed to go and pull it out, and FoxFace watches without a trace of disgust.

"Good Kill," she says as I retrieve my arrow, and clean it. I stiffen as she comes forward, but she still does not pull a weapon from anywhere.

"I've got some food too," she says, and she takes off her backpack which I have failed to notice until now. It's a bright florescent shade of yellow, kind of like my orange one, and it seems that she's already tried to disguise her one as well, with dried mud and leaves. She rummages around in the contents, and pulls out, a few red apples, a peice of bread, some almonds, her water skin, crushed hazelnuts and (still warm) hot cross buns. I am amazed. We occasionally bake them back in Distict 12, in fact I wouldn't be surprised if Peeta hadn't baked a few in his lifetime. She offers one to me, but I step back.

"It's Okay, look," she says, breaking one apart. She eats it too, to prove it isn't drugged nor poison. She hands one to me, and I break into the warm, fine-smelling bread. It's rich and tasty in my mouth. I thank her immensly afterwards.

"Don't mention it," she says, "it's the least I can do for a fellow tribute. One who thinks this a load of garbage." I give her a smile, a real one this time. I look down at the dead groosling.

"It was Rue who told me about these you know," I say, "apparently, you get a lot of them in District 11. Me, I mostly hunt in the woods just beyond the edge of my district." I see the look on her face, and relise. I've said too much! The whole of Panem is watching, they know about my illeagal poaching in the woods. Now they're going to find out about Gale, and how he was involved too.

"Don't get me wrong," I continue hastily, trying to defuse the situation. "it's not like I enjoy killing innocent animals, it's just that, we have to, you know?" It's true, I really don't. FoxFace nods knowingly.

"I understand,"she says quietly, "I'd do the same thing if I lived in Distict 12. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, your secret's safe with me." She mimes zipping her lips and taps her nose. I breath a sigh of relif.

"Thanks FoxFace." She looks up immedietly. I clamp a hand to my mouth.

"I-I'm sorry!" I stammer, "FoxFace", had only been my nickname for her. "It's just that I don't know your name." I look down, quickly feeling incredibly embarrassed.

To my surprise, she just laughs, and looks even more embarrassed then I do.

"Oh," she laughs, "it's Finch."

Finch?! Unusual name. Although I can talk, I'm named after a freshwater potato plant that grows near a pond, and my sister is named after a tiny yellow flower-so was Rue. It's a pretty name though, I like it.

"Finch? Like the bird?"

"Yes! You get a lot of finches where I come from. They come and sit on the powerlines. They sing lovely songs. I used to wake up to them singing every morning. They kept me company. Nice birds they are, sometimes I sing back."

I am strongly reminded of Rue and the mocking-jays.

"Want to sit down?" I ask, patting the earth next to me. She sits and empties the contents of her backpack. There really isn't much in there apart from food.

"How did you get all of this?" I ask, my eyes wide.

"I stole it," Finch replies, you can tell she's not proud, "it's the only way I can obtain enough food to keep me going. You're the very first tribute I've interacted with so far. I try and avoid any other means of confrontation with Cato or Thresh or Glimmer or Clove or even little Rue. I run away because I have to. I often used to steal back home." It seems she doesn't care what comes out of her mouth, despite the entire nation of Panem watching on every television screen.

"You're from District 5 aren't you?" I ask, "what's it like there?"

"Pretty boring. Our distict's in charge of power you see. It's our job and responsibility to see that the whole of Panem, especialy the Capitol gets electricity. We helped make most of the bombs during the rebellion, along with District 13 before it was bombed itself Our district's overrun with a bunch of Peacekeepers to make sure we get on with our work."

Boy, do I know how that feels.

"What about you? You come from District 12. That's the mining district. Have you ever worked in a mine?"

"No, but my father has," I tell her, "he's dead now though, working in the mines. He was killed in one of the blasts." "I'm so sorry," says Finch, and she really means it, I can see the sympathy in her face. I shake myself.

"Never mind," I say, "it was years ago. Let's eat!"

I cook the groosling by building a spit. I pluck out all of it's feathers like Rue showed me, and then roast it. I break off each of it's legs once it is golden brown and hand one to Finch.

"Here, have a leg!"

"You- you don't mind?"

"Certainly not! I insist!" I say, "go on have one!" Finch has earned my trust and proven herself worthy, and let's face it, I haven't had anyone to talk to in ages. She helps me set up a fire, and two chairs made out of the logs of fallen trees. Finch has an old, small black cooking pot in her pack, and we stew the apples and eat them with the groosling. We eat the rest of the food each of us have got in our backpacks, and chat for a while. About our districts, about our familys, and even about school back home. As it turns out, Finch is fifteen years old, just one year younger then me, and that she comes from a family of at least eighteen other brothers and sisters.

"Wow! Your mother must have her hands full!" I say.

"She does! Hardly has any time for me!"

"What about that boy you came here with?" I ask her, "he's dead right? He died at the Cornucopia weeks ago?"

Finch looks sad. "Yes, I knew him," she says, "he was a friend from school, although mind you he was a little simple-minded, but I mean, he came from one of the other classes and he was so nice to me-I didn't even know his name!"

I feel for her now, I really do, just like I did with Rue.

"The boy you came here with-Peeta?"

"Yes?"

"I know he's not really in love with you."

"What?"

"And you're not with him. You _both_ don't love each other."

"Ssh!" I warn, "keep your voice down, you know the Capitol's watching us right now!"

"Sorry, sorry. But, it is true though."

"How did you know it was just an act set up by Haymitch, my mentor?" Finch shrugged.

"It's not that hard to see through really," she says, "where is Peeta now?" I chew my lip.

"I don't know," I say, because I really don't, and I have to admit, I'm deeply worried about him. "that guy Cato cut him." Finch gasped.

"Where, exactly?!"

"Not sure, but somewhere fatal for sure."

"If you don't love him, then do you have a secret lover at home? Or any admirers?" I think of Gale, but don't say anything, so I just shrug and say that: "Peeta is the only one for me!"

We sit there, eating and talking for ages, hoping to bore the Capitol out of their minds. I tell her about how exactly Rue died, and how I killed the boy from District 1, even how Glimmer died after I dropped the tracker-jacker nest on the Careers, and that the people from District 11 sent me bread as their gift."

"That was nice of them," says Finch, "I hate these games. Everybody dies. Why did President Snow ever think it was a good idea to let children fight to the death on live TV? It's absaloutly _awful!" _

"Haven't you killed anyone since the games began?" Finch shakes her head.

"No-one."

Then I say,"You're alright, Finch." She laughs.

"You're not so bad yourself, Katniss Everdeen." I jump.

"How do you know my name?" I ask, we barely know each other. Finch gives a slight smirk.

"It's not so hard to forget," she clears her throat and then announces dramatically, "Katniss: The Girl Who Was On Fire!" I blush modestly. "I can't belive you looked so great. You must have a fantastic desiner!"

"Oh, yes! Cinna is the most wonderful designer in the whole wide world," I say loudly, making sure he is listening.

"I looked positivly ridiculous with that big silver thing around my head-way too sparkly for my liking," says Finch, "Our designers Mina and Avery and Zatine really wanted to make sure we looked idiotic." Portia would be over the moon, at this. She doesn't like the other designers very much.

We giggle like a pair of children then, holding our sides.

"Why did you think I was called FoxFace?" Finch wants to know, after all the hilarity is over.

I struggle to answer her question. "Well," I begin, not wanting to offend her, "you've got red hair for a start, and your facial features, they're very, very-sleek." She raised one eyebrow, and I tried to look ashamed and apologetic, but she just laughed. She seemed to take it as a compliment.

"Well, I supose my hair does look a little strange. I like your hair," she says fiddling with my braid, "do you do it up yourself?"

"Well, it was my mother," I say, "but now I have no choice _but_ to do it up myself."

"And your pin," says Finch admiringly. She has a look at my real golden mocking-jay pin, which I keep forgeting is still pinned to my chest, "where did you get it? From your district?"

"Yes, from a friend," I reply, "the mayor of my district's daughter, Madge. It's real gold."

"She must be very rich."

"But not in the least bit snobby," I add. "Good. In these times, you can't afford to be snobby, or choosy, or picky, or stuck-up." She reaches into a small pocket of her belt, and pulls something silvery out.

"This is what I've got." I look closer and see that it is in fact a tiny knife, the size of a needle.

"It's a matchstick knife," she explains, "you can cut an attacker and they'll never see what 'em, litterally! Only available in Districy 5. She lets me take a closer look at the knife, and as I twirl it round and round in my hands, I think of Peeta. Does Cato have a matchstick knife? No, that would be impossible if they're only available in District 5.

"Wow!" I breath, "however did they let you take that in!?" Finch gives me a sly look. "I'm very good at being secretive, especialy at hiding things."

A thought pops into my head. Before, I saw this Fox-Faced girl as an enemy, but now I have a great advantage of her becoming my ally. Why not? She was clever, wiley, and above all, she knew how to stay alive.

"Finch," I say as she takes a sip from her water skin.

"Hm?"

"I've just had an idea, which I think might work."

"Tell me," she says.

"What if, you and I formed an allience?" She almost spat out the water she was drinking.

"What?!"

"Think about it. We're both good at something. We each have a exceptionally good chance of winning the games. With my bow and arrows, and your miniture matchstick knife, and both of our skills combined, we could both win. And when we got to the end, well, we'd just refuse to kill each other, until the GameMakers will have to eventually let us go, and then we'll travel back to the Capitol, and then we'll have won! It's so simple, and I'm certain we could do it!"

She stares at me for a moment, her mouth open in wonder.

"Katniss, that sounds like a great plan!" She watches my face light up, and then her own expression fades. "But I'm afraid I cannot go through with it." Whatever trace of light and enthusiasm that was still left in my face dies down.

"You-can't?" I say, "But why?"

"Well, look at what's happened so far? Half the people died in a bloodbath at the Cornucopia, the minute that gong sounded, and then the Careers all made an allience that was surely going to fail, and I've spied on them, and it looks like it's falling apart already, Thresh is still out there, and he's strong enough to kill both of us. Besides, we don't want another allience-not after what happened to poor little Rue. It's for the best Katniss." She's right, I know that, but I'm afraid to say it. I wipe a few tears from my eyes.

"Yes," I say, sadly, "you're-you're right. It's for the best."

She comes closer to me, pulling back a peice of hair, and then whispers,

"Look, Katniss, I want you to win, so I'm going to give you some pointers. If you do want to get out of this hellhole alive, and get back to your mother and sister, her's my advice: Keep yourself safe, don't go near any of the Careers, especialy not Cato, he'll squash you like a bug! Trust your instincts, steal if you have to, but just don't let youself be seen. Use camoflauge, don't trust anyone you feel will harm you. Attack an attacker, but defend a defender. Those are my top tips, and bottom line: STAY ALIVE! Survive long enough to get to the very end-and then seize this as an oppurtunity to rebel againest this. You got that?"

I nod vigarously.

"Good." We hear the cannon fire. Another tribute dead. It was probably the boy from District 6. Or did he die at the Cornucopia like Finch's boy tribute? That leaves Cato, Thresh, the girl from District 2, supposedly named Clove, maybe Peeta, Finch and then me. Whoever it was who died, we both know that the cannon is the signal to get moving. My conversation with Finch was so long and so drawling, the Capitol were probably shouting at their TVs, telling us to get a move on with murdering each other. They probably wanted Finch to slit my throat with that tiny knife of her's when she had the chance. The GameMakers are probably still devisely a plan to draw us all together with some other tributes so they can see some real action.

"Well, I'm afraid that's my cue!" says Finch as soon as the cannon had fired. She turns to leave, packing up all her stuff, and taking the rest of the food. I really don't want her to go. I'll probably go insane without an intellegent human-being to talk to.

"Finch-wait!" I say, and she wheels round.

"Th-thanks," I say at last. She smiles. We stay there in silence for a few moments, until we hear Cato's voice. "They're over here, I heard them!" and Clove, "Let's get 'em!" and then we jump to attention.

"Sorry, gotta go," Finch says, and then turns into the foliage of the bushes.

"Goodbye FoxFace- I mean,_ Finch,_" I say quickly.

"Goodbye, Katniss."

And then she's gone, disappearing among the woods. I watch her go, and I know I have some competion here, but I'm not in the least bit anxious. She'll be alright I'm sure. She's clever, she knows about the dangers. I decide right then that I'm not longer jealous of her. Envy won't help me anyway. I also decide that if I don't make it, I want Finch to win. I would love to have her win. She reminds me of Rue, and her language of birds, or Gale and his protest outburts about the Capitol. And of Prim, and her innocence, (despite the fact that she thieves from the other tributes!) I pack up my stuff, kiss my fore and middle fingers and point them toward the bushes where Finch made her exit. I continue to wlk through the forest. I hope she makes it, I really do, I don't want her to die a horrible death like the others. Oh well, it's not like I'll see her again anyway.

**Hope you enjoyed, and sorry if I made any spelling errors. **


End file.
